“What are you doing?” I find myself saying.
She blinks, those long dark lashes lowering gracefully before rising again. “Nothing. Just standing here.”
“You’ve been standing in the queue?”
“Um, yes.”
My lips curve up. “You’re such a crazy girl.”
Her eyebrows rise. “I didn’t want to jump in front of everyone else when they’ve been waiting…”
I chuckle, move closer to her, and cup her face with my hands, looking into her eyes. “Look at you,” I murmur. “You take my breath away.”
“I brush up okay, don’t you think?”
My smile fades a little. She believes she looks good tonight. But she thinks it’s the costume that makes her look beautiful. She doesn’t realize all it’s done is bring her natural assets to life.
Her gaze slides away, then comes back, and color appears in her cheeks. “Everyone’s looking at us,” she whispers.
“They’re looking at you.”
“And you. You’re pretty good looking without all the hair.” She looks aside again. “There are photographers here.”
“I know—I organized them.”
“Oh.”
“They’re here to promote the charities, and also because we’re going to announce the engagements.”
“Of course.”
“Everyone’s keen to see which stunning woman has landed the mighty Kingi.”
“Like a fish.”
“Kinda.”
“Hooked in the lip and dragged to shore.”
“Have you been drinking?”
“Carla gave me a glass of champagne at the shop because I was shaking so much.”
“On an empty stomach?”
“I’m not drunk, if that’s what you’re asking.”
I stifle a laugh at her indignation, and stroke her cheeks. “So… photographers… you know what this means?”
Her eyes widen. “Oh!”
“Are you ready?”
“No.”
“Too bad.” I lower my lips to hers.
She stands there stiffly as I kiss her, obviously too self-conscious to relax. A cheer goes up around us, and I hear Orson laugh… I can almost hear her panicking at the thought that she needs to act ‘natural’ and return the kiss and convince everyone we’re madly in love, and I’m sure her head is whirling with a thousand thoughts, worrying that everyone watching is thinking I must be mad to be getting married to a girl like her…